


Waiting

by DisappointMe



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut, Zach Quinto: Moron King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappointMe/pseuds/DisappointMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach comes down with a nasty case of word vomit, which yields totally disastrous, and then totally awesome results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting from LJ.

Admittedly, she was gorgeous, even for Zach’s discriminating taste. Long, slim legs wrapped in tight denim, knee-high boots, fitted tee cut low to reveal ample cleavage, dark hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Despite his preference for those carrying XY chromosomes, he appreciated the female form. Just not _this_ female form because, currently _this_ female form was having her thigh warmed by Chris Pine’s hand as she tossed her head back and laughed at his joke. He snorted. Zach knew all of Chris’s jokes and it couldn’t be that funny. He could read her body language, the way she leaned into him, hooked her fingers into his belt loop, placed her hand on his arm. Chris was keeping his hands to himself, but his smile was transparently licentious. Wolfish, and hungry and Zach would give anything, _anything_ to have Chris smile at him like that.

“Right, Zach?”

Zach blinked once, twice, and shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the scene unfolding at the bar and returning his attentions to the conversation around him. 

“It’s a capitalist market,” he responded with an easy shrug, pushing what was left of his vodka tonic to the center of the table. He wasn’t really in the mood for booze and frivolity anymore. Part of him – the very small, self-preserving part of him that didn‘t want Chris’s tongue down his throat – was glad that Chris was keeping his distance, which was probably because Zach had been on the opposite end of welcoming. From the minute Chris arrived at the bar, he’d been little more than civil, so he tried not to let himself be offended when Chris left to chat up the woman who had been eyeing him for a large part of the night. Zach was still jetlagged and tired and he’d missed Chris too much. When combined, it‘s like they turned the key that shut off the filter from his brain to his mouth, which was nothing short of dangerous.

He tuned out of the conversation, nodding at random intervals and hmming and uh-huhing when it seemed suitable. He was toying with a straw wrapper and considering calling it a night when a strong, warm hand rubbed at the back of his neck. He jumped at the touch, turning to where Chris was pulling out the empty chair to his left and sitting down. Chris smiled, pleasant, friendly. Not the devilishly sexy, I Want Parts of My Body Inside Parts of Your Body smile Chris had given the girl. 

“She’s pretty,” Zach mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder to where the woman was sitting, typing something into her Blackberry. Probably tweeting about how _Chris Pine totes hit on me, omg._ “Turn you down, champ?”

Chris’s gentle smile turned into slight frown and he slipped his hand from Zach’s neck to his shoulder, leaving it there for another second before bringing it to his own lap, “Oh, no. She…Whatever. I’ve missed you, man. I’d rather hang out with you than hook up with some random chick.”

He knew, could see it in the arousal-brightened blue of his eyes, that Chris was lying through his straight, white teeth. He could feel the words creeping up the back of his throat. The words that would glue Chris to his side, that would make Chris stay where he was, talk to him and give Zach his undivided attention. He couldn’t say them, though because he knew that _Yeah, thanks, I’ve missed you too, man, let‘s catch up_ would come out as _Stop trying to get in her pants. Get in mine! I‘ll let you come on or in anything you want!_ That sort of admission tended to be problematic.

“Go,” he choked out with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll be in town for a while. We’ll catch up later.”

“You sure?” Chris asked, slight frown becoming a deep frown. One of the other members of the group asked Chris a question and he shook his head by way of response and Zach was glad for the break from having to stare into Chris’s stupidly wide and too perfectly blue eyes. Chris then turned back to Zach, regarding him warily before continuing, “I’m here for you, not her.”

“Man, you should sleep with anyone who will let you,” Zach said with a shallow, forced chuckle. Zach would let him. Zach would let Chris rack him and fuck him with a two foot dildo if that‘s what he wanted. He paused for one wide-eyed, horrified second, wondering if he‘d actually said that out loud. When Chris just looked at him expectantly, he continued, “Aren’t you in the midst of a dry spell to end all dry spells, or something? Go. I insist.”

Chris laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners and he reached out to pat Zach’s thigh. He squeezed it, “Anything for you, Zach.”

When he stood and left the table, giving Zach a pat on the shoulder as he walked past him, Zach sighed. Every time they did this dance, Zach felt himself get closer and closer to the edge. It was like his subconscious mind was chomping at the bit to tell Chris about every lewd thought that entered his brain. This was frightening, as he estimated that about sixty-four percent of his thoughts involved some sex act with Chris, which was actually pretty inconvenient, truth be told. He’d always figured if Chris was interested, he would have said so. Chris wasn‘t particularly shy about making his interests known – to women or men, whichever suited his fancy at the time. Zach doubted that suggesting they make out when Chris had only asked what he wanted to drink would be very couth. A gentleman didn’t just force himself on his friends. 

All of this was all Chris’s fault, anyway. Too much time around him made Zach rash and impulsive and Chris touched him too much, which was quite counterproductive when he was focusing on not ripping off Chris’s clothes and tasting every inch of skin he could get his mouth on. Not that he didn’t like the touching, but he couldn’t think straight when his big warm hands were on his neck and shoulders and back and knee. He figured Paramount would have a series of multi-million dollar heart attacks if he turned to Chris and shoved his tongue down his throat in public (which he thought about often) or reached out to take his hand (which actually almost happened) or held onto him too tightly while they were photographed (which did happen, but Chris either didn’t notice or didn’t care, so anyone who _did_ care could find a tall bridge and jump because Zach couldn‘t stop if his life depended on it). It was getting increasingly difficult not to throw himself at him and Zach really needed to spare himself the embarrassment. He was pretty keen on maintaining whatever small shred of dignity this stupid crush on Chris had left him with.

Masochistic curiosity made him look over his shoulder again, and he spotted Chris easily – elbow on the bar, leaning against it, hips aligned with the brunette‘s, lips turned up pleasantly as he listened to whatever undoubtedly deep, philosophical musings she was spewing. It was enough for Zach. Any more and he was liable to interrupt by offering to show the woman to the door and Chris to his bedroom. Or the back seat of his car. Or an alley. He wasn’t particular.

“It’s been great,” he said to the remaining friends sitting around the table, “but I’m still kind of jetlagged, so I think I’ll head home for the night.”

“Chris said he’d probably catch a ride home with you,” John said, leaning back to meet Zach’s eyes, “If he’s not ready, I can take him.”

“I’m sure she has a car,” Zach said sharply, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.

John looked where Zach was indicating, then looked back at Zach, eyebrows raised considerably higher than they had been. “Oh. Yeah. Um. Okay. Can you let him know you‘re leaving, though?”

“Sure.” He’d do no such thing.

“All right, man. It’s been good to see you,” John said, leaning across two other people to grab Zach’s hand. “Call me. Let’s grab lunch sometime this week?”

“Sure.” That, he’d do.

“See you later.”

There was a murmur of goodbyes from the rest of the group, but he paid them little attention as he headed to the back of the bar and into the restroom. He was pulling up his zipper when the door opened and he was only half surprised to see Chris standing beside the sink looking pretty miffed. Chris had this uncanny way of knowing when Zach was trying to beat a hasty retreat. An even more uncanny way of forestalling said hasty retreat with his masculine wiles and boyish charm.

“Not even a goodbye?”

Zach walked to the sink and washed his hands, taking the proffered paper towel from Chris’s outstretched hand. He sounded snide, even to himself, which meant that it was at least three times as bad as he thought it was, “You were preoccupied. Cockblocking is rude, didn’t want to get in the way.”

He stepped around Chris to toss the towel into the trashcan, but as soon as he did, Chris moved in front of him, thwarting his escape plans. “Not that being sullen and brooding isn‘t sexy, or whatever you were going for here, but what‘s going on?”

It’s like he made his eyes wider and sad-looking on purpose because he knew that look was Zach‘s greatest weakness. He felt himself pulled into those stupidly, unfairly blue eyes, then the words were spilling out and over his tongue before he could stop them: “I don’t want you to go home with her.”

Chris’s eyes flashed with something Zach couldn’t place, something that made his breath catch, before becoming perfectly impassive again. “Why is that?”

Zach shoved his hand through his hair, then pushed his glasses up his nose with a sigh. His stupid brain and his stupid mouth were working against him and if he knew of a way to punish them, he would implement it instantly. “I don’t know why I said that. It’s just…I don’t…Forget it. I don’t know. I can’t explain.”

Chris was silent for a beat, then with a nearly infuriating level of patience said, “Try.”

His eyes were drawn to Chris’s lips as they rolled around those three little letters. They were pink and wet from where he just licked them and that broken filter that kept him from saying inappropriate things must have controlled his actions too, because he found that he just couldn‘t help himself. He pushed Chris back against the tiled wall, hands curled into his tee shirt flush against his shoulders and leaned in, hesitating for a breath before pressing his lips to Chris’s. He held the kiss for several seconds, long enough for them both to know that it was far from an accident. He pulled back, but only enough so that there were a few scant inches between them.

“Come home with me.” The words hung in the air barely long enough for Zach to register them before he realized what he said, and worse, what he‘d done. His eyes shot open and he stepped back and away from Chris as he covered his mouth in abject horror. “Holy fuck. Did I just _say_ that? Did I just _do_ that?”

Chris took a breath, then nodded, “Yeah. You did.”

“What are the chances of you forgetting the last five minutes?” Zach asked insistently, eyes flitting nervously around the bathroom. He knew above all else that Chris was a good man and a great friend, and it wouldn‘t be the end of their friendship, but he couldn’t look at him. Whatever sad, pitying look he had on his face, Zach didn’t want to see it.

Chris seemed to consider this for a moment. “Uh, zero percent.”

“Chris, I –” but he was cut off by another patron stumbling through the door and into one of the stalls. He turned back to Chris, “I’ll see you later.”

Chris was starting to say something, but he pushed past him and bolted out the door. He weaved his way through the crowd in way that would impress even the best contortionist and was through the front door of the bar before Chris (whom he guessed just used his unparalleled good looks to part the crowd like Moses parted the Red Sea) caught up with him. Zach had just stepped into the cool night air when Chris grabbed him by the arm and spun him around, stopping him dead in his tracks. 

“Zach!” He barked, looking steadily into Zach’s eyes. His gaze was bright, warm, yet conveyed a sense of urgency. “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

He honestly hadn’t, not that he would have listened anyway, so shook his head, gesturing vaguely to his ears, “Yeah, no. Couldn’t hear you over the sound of my own mortification.”

Chris had the nerve to roll his eyes, “Wait for me. I have to close my tab and get my card and – Zach, _wait for me._ I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t know why – if he had to guess, he would say it was the unfamiliar tone in Chris’s voice – but he did what he was told. He stood in front of the bar, hands deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes nervously. He couldn’t begin to think that maybe this was Chris’s way of saying yes because, well, he just couldn’t. Unless Chris was just being a good friend and waiting until they got somewhere quiet and private to tell him he was being a deplorable cad. Which he definitely was because who _says_ something like that to someone they respect? A breeze tickled the back of his neck and he shrugged deeper into his jacket. 

He heard the bar’s door swing open, and moments later could feel the heat from Chris’s body as he stepped beside him, the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent carrying on the wind. He turned to face him and when he opened his mouth to speak, a blessed nothing came out. This was a good thing because anything he might have said would have been grossly inappropriate.

“Ready?” Chris asked, nudging Zach’s shoulder with his own.

“For what?”

Chris looked at him for a long moment, mouth almost turned up in a smile, eyes damn near twinkling with the reflection of the street lamps. Zach felt his stomach drop and his pulse begin to race. His look said everything.

“Oh,” Zach said quietly, and it suddenly felt too hot for him to be wearing what he was, even though it was kind of almost cold outside. He wanted to get naked, and he wanted to get naked with Chris. Now. “I’m parked this way.”

They walked in silence and he and Chris bumped shoulders with every step they took. His head was spinning with anticipation because in a strange, completely unforeseen turn of events, he and Chris were walking to his car. He was going to drive them back to his house. And they were probably going to have some form of sex. He chuckled to himself over the absurdity of it all. Chris seemed to be thinking along those same lines because he chuckled, too, and it felt really nice. They got in the car and Zach pulled out of the lot, the tires squealing on the wet pavement as he turned out onto the street. Chris laughed quietly and Zach tapped an unnamable rhythm onto the steering wheel in an attempt to expend some nervous energy.

They didn’t talk as Zach drove them from one side of town to the other; when Zach pulled up in front of his house and parked the car; when they strode up the walkway and into the house; when they kicked off their shoes and stripped off their jackets. They didn’t talk at all, and it was almost too much. Noah greeted them excitedly and Chris dropped to his knees to lavish him with well-deserved ear scratches. Noah only whimpered a little – just enough to make Zach feel guilty – when he called him into the laundry room and shut the door. But it wasn’t until they were standing in Zach’s living room, looking everywhere but at each other that he actually got nervous.

“Um, hey, so yeah, yeah,” he ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at where his toes were curling around the edge of the throw rug by his dinner table. “You want a drink or something? I have some leftover Thai, that chicken you like? God, you look really fucking hot right now. I mean. You always look hot, totally, _always_ look hot, but right now you just…God, Chris. So fucking hot.”

Chris laughed, surprised and melodious and Zach groaned, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. Too close to Chris, too reckless. He was such a mess.

“Christ, what‘s wrong with me?” He muttered, shaking his head.

“Zach.” Low, and rough, and enough to make every hair on his body stand on end. “C’mere.”

He felt like a marionette being pulled by strings to where Chris was standing by the couch. He stopped in front of him, close enough to touch, but far enough away not to be intrusive or presumptuous. He felt Chris eyeing him critically, taking in the way he was standing, shoulders curved inward, hands dangling awkwardly at his sides, head ducked to avoid Chris’s eyes.

“No, come _here._ ”

Zach took two steps closer and Chris pulled him in, looping his arms around his lower back, bringing them chest to chest. Zach pressed his body to Chris’s, feeling the way they lined up perfectly from knees to shoulders. Chris’s breath was warm against his ear, and he could almost feel his lips brushing against his skin when he spoke.

“Hey. You still want to do this?”

Zach pulled back and looked at Chris, his own hands tentatively moving to Chris’s hips, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt to rub against the warm, soft skin there. “Yeah, do you?”

Chris’s hands moved from where they were around his back, up to the sides of his face. Chris leaned in and kissed him, just a soft press of one mouth to another. Every part of Chris that was touching Zach was gentle, the faintest of pressures and a delicate, barely discernable warmth. Zach opened his mouth and sighed, trying to press in closer to Chris, to feel more of Chris’s body against his own. Chris’s tongue slipped into his mouth, light, tentative licks against his lips and Zach whimpered desperately. It was like a fire had ignited in the pit of his soul.

He dug his fingers into all of the skin of his hips, denim of his jeans, and leather of his belt that he could hold onto. He tilted his head and opened his mouth wider, moaning when Chris kissed him deeper, held him more firmly, and groaned into the kiss. Zach slid his hands up Chris’s shirt and fitted his fingers into the grooves of his ribs, his short nails digging into Chris’s skin. He wanted to leave marks. He wanted Chris to remember this. Chris pulled away from the kiss and gasped into Zach’s mouth. He bit down on Zach’s lower lip and pulled before sliding his tongue into his mouth in the most shamelessly arousing way, moving along the sharp points of Zach’s teeth, the roof of his mouth, along the flat of Zach’s tongue. If Chris kept kissing him like this, he was going to spontaneously orgasm.

Zach pulled back, pressing closed-mouth kisses to Chris’s stubbled jaw, and up to his ear. “Your mouth does the _filthiest_ things.”

Chris’s laugh left hot puffs of air against the side of his neck. His voice was a rumble that Zach felt all the way into the depths of his bones. “You don’t know the half of it. Unless, of course, that’s not your thing. Unless you like…”

He kissed Zach’s neck, sweet and reverential, up along his jaw to his cheekbone and then down to his lips, kissing him tenderly, so soft it was like they weren‘t even touching. He then moved down to his chin, threading his hands into Zach’s hair and tilting his head back to kiss under his jaw and down to the hollow of his throat.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Zach chanted in a rushed whisper, hands pawing aimlessly at Chris’s sides. He felt Chris smile against his skin and dropped his hands to his belt, tugging him with him as he stepped backwards through the house. Chris moved with him, lips never leaving his neck and hands only leaving Zach’s hair to brace them against the door frame as they rounded the corner into Zach’s bedroom. Zach’s knees hit the unmade bed and he fell back, pulling Chris down on top of him. Chris broke his fall by placing his hands on either side of Zach’s head, and moved up to kiss him again, his tongue just ghosting along the inside of his lips then sliding slowly along the length of Zach’s, before giving one light brush of a closed-mouth kiss to his lips as he pulled away.

The whimper that left Zach’s lips as Chris sat up was pathetic at best, and he would have been duly shamed had he not been crippled with the desire for _more_. He brought his hands up to Chris’s thighs where they were pressed against his hips and composed himself long enough to really look at Chris. His black jeans had been tight to begin with, but the way they stretched across the half-formed erection he was sporting was obscene (not that it didn’t send a delicious shiver down Zach’s spine), the gray shirt he was wearing was riding up and Zach eyed the strip of pale skin with an unconscious lick of his lips. He looked up to Chris, who was looking back at him, blue eyes luminous, but heavy-lidded, chest heaving, lips wet and too pink.

Zach dug his fingers into Chris’s thighs, groaning low in the back of his throat and saying the only words that made any sense in his mind: “Please, Chris. Chris. Chris, _please_.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, seemingly a response to Zach’s unspoken request. He leaned down and kissed Zach quickly, shifting his weight to sit back up, fingers moving to the buttons of Zach’s shirt. He found himself leaning into the gentle brush of Chris’s fingers against his hot skin as he deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Zach leaned up and struggled to get it off his arms before reaching up and tugging at the hem of Chris’s. Chris leaned back and pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the floor with little fanfare. Without a moment‘s hesitation, Chris’s hands were back in his hair, his mouth on his own, kissing Zach like he wanted to devour him. Zach moaned into the kiss, hands sliding up Chris’s back, then down to his ass, fingers curling into the thick denim of his jeans as Chris rolled his hips, grinding down into Zach.

“Fuck. _Yes_ ,” Zach murmured against Chris’s lips lying back and moving his hands to Chris’s front. He tried to get the belt to unlatch, but he was unsuccessful in this endeavor, earning a melodramatic sigh from Chris as he pushed his hands away. Zach groaned, “Did you weld that thing on?”

“Didn’t think I’d need my quick release, maladroit-proof belt tonight. Sorry,” Chris said, shifting off Zach and rolling onto his back, simultaneously managing to get his pants off and move so he was lying with his back against the pillows at the top of the bed.

“Clever.” But that was all Zach managed to get out, because Chris was lifting his hips and sliding his briefs down and off, kicking off his socks right after. Chris bent his knee slightly and Zach’s eyes followed the movement, up strong thighs to his cock, thick, flushed pink just behind the head, and suddenly so hard lying flat near the top of his thigh. His eyes lingered there for a long moment before he took in the rest of him: one arm behind his head, the other resting against his stomach, fingers brushing idly against his skin. He was smirking, eyes once again watching Zach watch him.

Zach’s movements were awkward and ungainly and he got tangled up in the sheets as he crossed the bed to lie beside Chris. He rolled into Zach immediately, rocking against his thigh as Zach clumsily fought his way out of his pants while still trying to meet Chris’s insistent, sloppy kisses. As soon as Zach kicked his pants and socks off, Chris’s hands were at his hips, tugging his briefs down and off his legs. Chris mouthed wetly at the inside of his thighs, tongue looping lazily across Zach’s balls, forcing Zach to resort to fisting his hands in the sheets lest he pull too hard at Chris’s hair. Chris wrapped a strong hand around him and started to stroke slowly, eyes never leaving Zach’s.

He bucked up into the touch and bit back a moan, only to choke out, “Chris. I’m going to have to fuck you. Need to. Probably now. Like. Right now.”

He’d swear it with his dying breath, it sounded sexier in his mind.

Chris tipped his head back and laughed, genuine and not derisive, and Zach felt like he should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. He really, _really_ wanted to fuck Chris. Chris’s laughter died down and he looked back up to Zach, a small, affectionate smile on his lips. “Well. When you put it so eloquently…”

He sat up and straddled Zach again, then lifted his hands to his face, pulling Zach’s glasses off, kissing the bridge of his nose before folding them gently. He looked at Zach expectantly, and Zach gestured to the nightstand, where Chris set the glasses down then opened the drawer, pulling out condoms and lube. He popped the cap on the lube and grabbed Zach’s hand by the wrist, coating two of his fingers. Chris guided Zach’s hand between his legs and with little finesse, maneuvered those fingers inside. Zach groaned at the heat around his fingers, then again at the way Chris moved, fucking himself against Zach’s hand. Zach reached up with his free hand and scratched his nails up Chris’s stomach, across his chest and over his nipples, marveling at the way Chris’s eyes closed and his lips parted so sensuously. Zach crooked his fingers and rubbed steady circles against Chris’s prostate, watching his face for any signs of discomfort and when he found none, added a third finger. Chris leaned forward and braced himself against Zach’s chest, looking down into Zach’s eyes, grinding down against Zach’s hand.

“Wait. Stop, that’s – Oh, God – Yeah,” Chris sputtered, reaching behind himself to grab Zach‘s wrist.

Zach pulled his hand away and reached up, wiping them dry on the underside of one of the pillows. Chris reached for a condom and opened it, sitting back so he could roll it down onto Zach’s cock. He pulled himself up onto his knees and aligned himself over Zach so that the tip of his cock was just pressing against him. The anticipation of it was almost enough to make Zach come, but when Chris lowered himself, taking Zach in all the way, he almost did. Thankfully, Chris didn’t move, only leaned forward so that they were nearly forehead to forehead, mouths inches from each other, their hot, damp breath filling the air between them.

“God, Zach,” Chris whispered, voice hoarse and raw and heavy with need. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. Two open-mouthed kisses later and Chris was straightening himself, one hand on his own thigh, the other on the wall behind Zach’s head. He started out slowly at first, which was good because Zach was still embarrassingly close to coming far too soon and Chris was so tight and hot around him that it almost hurt. In the very best way, of course. But as Zach seemed to gain control, Chris appeared to lose it, closing his eyes, dropping his chin forward and grinding down against Zach’s cock, picking up speed every time.

Zach could feel his impending orgasm pooling in the pit of his stomach and he reached for Chris’s hips, stilling his movements so he could thrust up into him, hard and fast and frantic, fingers digging into soft flesh, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Chris moaned loudly and bit down on his own lip, pushing away from the wall and bringing both hands to curl against Zach’s chest. Zach breathed out a litany of curses in response to Chris’s pleas, and when Chris opened his eyes, looked down at Zach, and breathed his name in the most fiendishly erotic way, Zach came. Hard. An orgasm that rolled from the base of his spine and sparked out to his fingers and his toes, like the epicenter of a ground-splitting earthquake. He was trembling, babbling Chris’s name, clutching at his hips, his thighs and his hands, lacing their fingers together to try to ground himself. It wasn’t until Chris leaned down to kiss him, trapping their linked hands between their bodies that he finally started to come down.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Zach breathed, not trusting the full volume of his voice. He pulled one of his hands away and reached down to wrap his hand around Chris’s cock, but Chris shook his head.

“No, I need a minute, I’m going to…” But he was kissing Zach again, and whatever he was going to do, Zach was going to agree because he hadn’t come that hard in a really long time and he still felt like he was floating. Minutes passed and Chris shifted up and off of Zach, Chris’s hard cock demanding attention, but going ignored as Chris gingerly pulled the condom off Zach, then tied it off, setting it on the nightstand. When Chris returned to him, he was holding the lube and another condom.

“What? I can’t – there’s no way I can – are you going to…?” Zach babbled bemusedly, watching as Chris spread lube on his own fingers and situated himself between Zach’s spread knees.

“Shhh, you‘ll love this.” And with a kiss to the inside of Zach’s knee, he pressed two fingers in and spread them apart, easily adding a third seconds later. He felt full and warm and relaxed and so good. Better than good, because his body was still thrumming with the intensity of his orgasm and Chris was fingering him gently, thrusting in and out rhythmically. 

Chris pulled his fingers out, then rolled the condom on and Zach spread his legs wider. Chris pushed and Zach felt every inch of him sliding in, hot and thick and perfect. Chris leaned down, hovering over Zach’s body, and Zach lifted his knees, pressing them to Chris’s sides as he fucked him, slow and deep. Chris buried his face in the side of Zach’s neck, breathing against his skin as he thrust in and even though Zach knew he couldn’t come again, not so soon, it felt like he was hovering on the brink of orgasm, or possibly maybe even _still_ coming. Intense. So, so good. Every rub of Chris’s cock against his prostate made him shiver, made his legs quake, and he wrapped his arms around Chris, his fingers gliding smoothly across his sweat-slicked skin. He could feel the tension in Chris’s body, the shaking in his arms, the stuttering irregularity of his thrusts, knew he was close. Then, he stilled, crying out wordlessly against the skin of Zach’s shoulder before giving a few more shallow thrusts. He was panting, heavy and deep as he pulled out and rolled to Zach’s side. Zach‘s entire body was throbbing with the ache and ferocity of a pleasure he hadn‘t felt before, and Chris was really, really right – he loved it. He was hesitant to say it was the best sex of his life (the fact that it was Chris gave it an unfair advantage) but it was definitely top five. Zach turned to Chris, taking in his slowing breaths, the sweat at his hairline, on his neck and chest, his eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. He looked at him for a while, until Chris opened his eyes, holding Zach’s gaze until Zach felt too exposed and had to look away. Zach turned back to Chris in time to see him pull off the condom and tie it off, then he reached across Zach to turn on the bedside lamp and retrieve the first, previously discarded condom before sitting back next to Zach.

“Can I shower?” Chris asked, turning and smiling languidly at Zach, “I’ll stick to everything if I don’t.”

Zach nodded, not quite sure how to handle all of this, now that he had regained use of Higher Thought. He really hadn’t considered much after the Have Sex With Chris part. When Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking very nearly worried, he smiled, adding, “Yeah, there are clean towels in the cabinet next to the shower. Help yourself.”

Chris hesitated for a moment, then nodded, sliding off the bed and walking across the room to the adjoining bathroom. Zach was admiring the smooth sway of his hips and the swell of his ass when Chris stopped and turned back towards the bed. Zach’s eyes darted up to Chris’s face, taking in his knowing, almost too-sweet smile. 

A gentle flush colored his cheeks and he gestured nervously from Zach, to himself, then to the bathroom. “You know. If you want.”

He did want. Very much. 

They showered quickly, keeping everything PG as they were still too sated for much of anything else, and aside from a quick, stolen kiss on Chris’s part, they kept their hands to themselves. When they toweled off and headed back into the bedroom, Zach was fairly startled to watch Chris pull back the covers and crawl underneath them. Zach stood at his side of the bed, lube in one hand, condoms in the other, jaw somewhere near the floor.

“Is this your side? I can move,” Chris offered, eyes wide and apologetic.

“No, you’re fine,” he said, dumping the lube and condoms back in the drawer. Logic said to leave them out because they might need them later, but insecurity told him not to be so presumptuous. He went with the latter. He turned off the light and slid between the sheets, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He was tired, very much so, but he couldn’t sleep when he was hyperaware of every minute shift that Chris made as he tried to get comfortable.

He sighed, voice sounding oddly thin cutting through the silence, “You don’t have to stay, you know. If you don’t want to. It’s fine. I won’t take it personally or any –”

He was silenced when Chris reached across the bed and pulled him close, rolling him over and adjusting until they had their legs tangled together and Chris’s arm was draped across his back, fingers brushing against his shoulder blade. His own hand was curled against Chris’s chest, his head on his shoulder, the smell of his soap mixed with Chris’s skin triggering something strangely proprietary to bury itself deep in the recesses of his heart, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It was only after Chris’s breathing evened out, his heart beating steadily beneath Zach’s hand that he allowed himself to fall asleep, too.

*

Zach awoke face down, puddle of drool on his hand from where it was under his head, sheets tangled around his waist, foot hanging off the bed. He blinked his eyes open and squinted against the brightness of the room. In which he was the only occupant. It’s not like he was secretly hoping that Chris would have hung around for breakfast or lunch or a goodbye fuck or anything. It wasn’t a big deal. So he wasn’t going to get the chance to wake up to Chris’s sleeping face. The disappointment would ebb. Probably.

He fought to free himself from the sheets and got out of bed, walking over to the dresser to retrieve clean boxers. He pulled them on and turned to head into the bathroom, nearly jumping out of his skin when the bedroom door swung open and Chris sauntered in, trunks low on his hips, newspaper tucked under his arm, a mug of coffee in each hand and Noah on his heels.

“We’re going to teach this dog to fetch the newspaper. I was out there searching for this thing in nothing but my Chucks and my underwear. Sometimes people with cameras follow us, not sure if you noticed, and before you say anything about that fence, that’s not the point. The point is: there could have been pictures of me wandering around your front yard mostly naked because Noah can‘t yet fetch the paper,” Chris proclaimed, voice still rough with sleep. He looked at Zach as if expecting a response, but he had none. Only stared at Chris’s face in an attempt not to stare at any other part of his previously mentioned mostly naked body. Mostly naked, really hot body, which was busy being mostly naked. With Zach. In his bedroom.

“Aw, man,” Chris groaned, looking entirely too frustrated for his own good so early in the morning, though still perfectly sexy. “You’re not going to be all weird now, are you? You can’t be weird before I’ve had coffee. Law of the Universe. I can’t handle it.”

Zach blinked at Chris, then shuffled past him, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind himself. He ignored the heavy sigh Chris heaved, the way he looked a little crestfallen. He relieved himself, then washed his hands, splashing cold water on his face to wipe the sleep out of his eyes and the less than attractive drool crust from the sides of his mouth. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that everything was okay. They’d fucked. It was exceptionally good. Chris had stuck around and it was okay. It was all okay. And Chris had coffee for him. Which was definitely a bonus.

He steeled himself and headed back into the bedroom to find Chris in his bed, propped up against the pillows, coffee on the nightstand to his left, newspaper open and held high in front of his face. Noah (who didn’t even lift an ear at Zach’s reentry, the traitorous scoundrel) was lying on the floor at Chris’s side, completing the picture of Norman Rockwell perfection. Well. If Norman Rockwell was still alive and had evolved to paint Gay America. Chris didn’t look away from his paper, so Zach flopped face down onto the bed, closer to Chris than he needed to be, but not enough to disturb him. He smiled when he turned his head and saw the second cup of coffee had been placed on the nightstand by his side of the bed.

They were quiet for a few minutes, and Zach was happy for it, even if all he could think about was what to say to Chris. Or what not to say to Chris. It was still nice. Comfortable. The rustling of the newspaper brought him out of his thoughts and he rolled onto his back, away from Chris, but turned so he could look at him. Chris dropped the newspaper to his lap and reached for his coffee, taking a long sip before looking over to Zach.

“Get that all out of your system? Are we good now?” His smirk was smug, but his eyes were cautious, as though he was still expecting Zach to freak out on him.

“Shut up,” he responded, shoving playfully at Chris’s arm. “I just – I needed a minute.”

Chris nodded, but his lips were pressed into a tight line as he picked up the newspaper again. Zach didn’t do these sorts of things, so he wasn’t exactly adept at handling the morning after. He didn’t do these sorts of things _because_ he wasn’t exactly adept at handling the morning after. He draped his arm over his eyes and groaned.

“It’s weird, you know? Isn’t it weird?”

“It wasn’t until you made it weird.” The terseness of Chris’s words made his skin feel prickly and he knew that he was only making it worse.

“But it _is_! It’s –” 

“Fine, Zach, I get it. Maybe I should –”

“—because I never thought we – that you…that you wanted me. So it’s…yeah. I’m just. Getting used to it, I guess,” Zach finished with a sigh. “And thanks for the coffee.”

He sat up and reached over, taking a sip of his coffee before lying back against the pillows again, looking over at Chris. Who looked completely flabbergasted. Zach smiled a little, resisting the urge to brush his fingers along Chris’s jaw and kiss that stupid look off his face. He wasn’t sure that was in their yet-to-be-established Morning After Parameters. 

“You didn’t. Think. That I. Wanted you?” Chris stuttered, taking his time refolding the newspaper and setting on the nightstand before returning his attention to Zach. “You didn’t think I wanted you.”

“Yeah,” Zach said with a shrug. “Nice turn of events, though.”

Chris squinted at him and shook his head before continuing. “I _threw_ myself at you. You think just demanding – rather brusquely, I might add – that I go home with you would have worked if I hadn’t already wanted it? Hadn‘t been thinking about it since the figurative ‘forever?’” Zach opened his mouth to answer, but Chris cut him off, “Rhetorical question. I asked you out not one, not two, but eight different times. Eight!”

“You did no such thing!” Zach cried at a pitch that made Chris cringe. 

“Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Third week of filming: ‘Hey, Zach, I was thinking maybe we could go get dinner sometime’ and in your spooky Spock voice, you said, ‘Captain, are you asking me out on a date?’ and I said yes. And we went out to dinner. And you _brought your brother._ ”

Zach laughed, though more out of discomfiture than amusement, “Joe said there was something odd about it, but I didn’t believe him. I thought you were kidding.”

“I wasn’t. Nothing says This Is Not A Date like the appearance of Joe ‘The Third Wheel’ Quinto. The second time you spent the entire meal texting, the third, oh, the _third_ you brought some dude you were trying to sleep with. I thought I was going to have a stroke. For my dignity's sake, I won’t elucidate on the next five, but they were painfully, unfortunately, lamentably similar.” There were only hints of acrimony woven into his words, but Zach caught them all. He was selfishly glad that it seemed to bother Chris as much as it did, even if he was sorry.

His cheeks flushed a hot, deep pink and he laughed uncomfortably, “God, I feel like such an ass. I would have never…I thought, if I _really_ thought, even though you said – I just couldn’t believe it. I mean, if you wanted to sleep with me, I figured you would have just said it – and God, I would have – and I know you‘re not into relationships, so…”

Chris took another sip of his coffee before responding, “Why would you think that?”

“You haven’t been in a serious relationship, at least since we’ve been friends, and when I asked you about it, you told me you were waiting,” Zach said digging his elbow into the bed and propping his head up on his hand. “Kind of a nebulous answer, don’t you think?”

Chris looked down at Zach, expression blank but eyes so, so bright. “Yes. You asked me what I was waiting for.”

“And you said,” Zach scrunched up his nose and Chris smiled warmly, “‘You’ll see.’ I still don’t ‘see’ what – oh. _Oh_. Fuck me.”

Chris opened his mouth, then shook his head, “I‘ll let it go; that joke is too easy.”

“Thank you,” Zach said with a groan. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillows. Chris’s fingers were warm flitting across the back of his neck and he turned his head to look up at Chris, groaning again when he saw the way Chris’s eyes glittered with triumph. “As your friend, I have to say: you can’t date me. I’m a fucking moron and you shouldn‘t date those below your level of intellect. Shit. I am truly astounded by my own oblivion.”

“My good friend,” Chris said quietly, as though confiding a deep secret, “I’m afraid I have to veto your veto.”

Chris was stroking along the back of Zach’s neck, fingers scratching into his hair, then smoothing back down and he was nearly purring at the touch. “Then let me make it up to you.”

“With blowjobs?” Chris supplied.

Zach laughed and pulled away, sitting up and reaching for his coffee again, “Yes, and, uh, I was thinking maybe we could go get dinner sometime?”

Chris chuckled, looking equal parts delighted and hopeful. “Are you asking me out on a date, Commander?”

“Yes, I am.”

Chris leaned over and kissed him, warm and dry and sweet. “Absolutely.”

“Good.” Zach kissed him one more time before letting him return to his own coffee.

He watched Chris pick up the newspaper, unfold it and pick up where he left off. Zach moved closer, then reached out and brushed his hand down Chris’s side, earning a soft hum and a smile for his efforts. “So, tonight, if you‘re free?”

Chris folded down a corner of the newspaper so he could look at Zach, then held it up again before responding, “Yeah. You should probably call to make sure Joe is available to third wheel this time, too. You know I‘m a traditionalist.”

Zach pinched him, and Chris yelped, laughing and shrugging away. “Clever. Just try to be a little more sarcastic next time, Chris.”

He looked over the top of his paper at Zach, eyes breathtakingly serious. “Anything for you, Zach.”


End file.
